‘Now, boy. Don’t speak ill of the dead,’ said Silas sternly.
But Carter didn’t want to get onto the subject of his family now. He wanted to know about Ray’s money. ‘So, my friend, are you going to help me find my mate’s nest egg?’
The old man set down his empty glass on the bench beside him and stood up. ‘Fancy a walk?’ He reached down and patted the dog’s head. ‘Come on, Klink, lad. Let’s take this impatient young whippersnapper to find the buried treasure, shall we?’
*
Jackman’s office was a haven, a refuge from the bedlam of the CID office.
He had made it his own, bringing in scavenged furniture. There were no official police photographs on the walls, just rows of books and a picture of his beautiful and sadly long-gone horse, Glory.
He put his finger to the decorative globe on his desk, and watched the countries of the world revolve in a many-coloured blur. ‘If only real life was as beautiful,’ he murmured.
‘It is, if you look in the right places.’
Jackman looked up. The elfin face of Laura Archer peered around his partly open door.
‘You’re working late. Come in.’
Laura sat down opposite him and smiled grimly. ‘I was summoned to help the FMO with a situation in custody.’
‘Ah, I heard we had a difficult customer. Everything okay now?’
‘He’s on his way to hospital, but he’s much calmer.’
‘Good. And were you just passing? Because my office is in a dead end corridor, so . . .’
Laura laughed. Not for the first time, Jackman noticed how beautiful she was — in an unassuming kind of way.
‘I should know better than to try and outwit a detective, shouldn’t I?’
He raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue.
‘As you know, I can’t discuss a patient with you, but I wanted to tell you that I am still keeping a close eye on Detective Carter McLean. Barry Richards and I were originally quite happy to allow him back to full duties, but we are aware that he still has issues. I’m just not sure whether those issues will resolve, or get worse.’
‘My sergeant knows Carter very well. In fact I suspect she is closer to him than anyone, and she has expressed her concerns about him.’
Laura nodded. ‘I know. I worry that she is taking on too much. The words “rock and hard place” come to mind.’ She sat forward in her chair. ‘That’s actually why I’m here. I wanted to tell you that Marie Evans is under considerable pressure. Carter does not mean to impose on her good nature and their friendship, but he leans heavily on her, and I don’t want her buckling under the strain.’
Jackman hadn’t fully appreciated Marie’s situation. ‘Forewarned is forearmed. Thank you for telling me.’
Laura stood up, ‘Excellent. I feel happier now that you are aware of the full picture. Just don’t tell her I enlisted your help, will you?’
Jackman drew a finger and thumb across his lips. ‘Zipped tight. And thank you, Laura.’
He watched her leave and wondered if she was married.
He sat back in his chair. He knew that Marie had sometimes accompanied Carter when he went for psychological evaluation, but he didn’t realise how much time she was spending with him. She and Laura must have spoken recently. He tapped his fingers on the table. It was unlike Marie to do anything without telling him, but she was looking exhausted, so maybe she had just forgotten. He shook his head. No, it was more probable that she didn’t want to lumber him with her problems.
Well, that wasn’t going to continue. He’d talk to her tomorrow, and make a few gentle suggestions. Jackman gnawed on his bottom lip. Marie had always seen the very best in Carter, but Jackman himself had, once or twice, seen a different side to the enigmatic detective. There had been times when Carter McLean had been too ruthless in his determination to get his man. He just prayed that the terrible things that had happened in Carter’s life did not exacerbate that particular trait. Carter had always been a bit of a loose cannon, and Jackman could handle that. As the super had admitted, he got results. But what he didn’t want was Carter suddenly operating completely outside the box, and taking Marie with him. He nodded to himself. Yes, tomorrow he and Marie would definitely have to talk.
*
Silas and Klink led Carter towards the river and Stone Quay. So, he had been right all along. They were going back to the Eva May.
‘Better get a move on,’ muttered Silas. ‘We need the light, so I’d like to get this done before darklings.’ He glanced up. ‘And it’s coming in fast tonight.’
‘But there’s power on the boat, Si. I can fire the generator, no problem.’
Silas grunted. ‘It’s not on the boat.’
Carter gazed across the fields. The smell of charred stubble hung in the air. He knew what it was now, but it still made him uncomfortable. He shook himself. Think about the money. If it wasn’t on the Eva May, where the hell was it?
Silas was now stepping onto the quay. ‘Gonna need those muscles of yours. Last time I did this, it nearly killed me. Not quite as tough as I used to be.’
The old man walked towards the rear of the old storeroom, and began to pull back a knotted clump of brambles, nettles and dead weeds.
‘Your turn, young’un. We have to move that.’ Silas pointed to a heap of broken chunks of concrete and builder’s rubble beneath the vegetation.
‘It’s under there?’
‘In a manner of speaking,’ said Silas. ‘If you get a move on, you’ll see for yourself, won’t you?’
‘Then I’d better get some tools or I’ll be here all night.’ Carter went into the storeroom and returned with a large, battered shovel.
He worked until the sweat ran down his back and dripped from his forehead. This was not how he had foreseen spending his evening.
‘There! Look.’ Silas pointed again. Carter saw a lump of old scrap iron. ‘Give it a tug. Oh, and mind. It’s heavy.’
The iron bar was actually a curved handle. Carter braced himself and heaved.
Silas had been right. It was damned heavy. With a loud groan, he pulled it up out of its seating, and found that he was staring down a shallow flight of stone steps. ‘Well, I’ll be . . . !’ He let the trapdoor fall backwards and stared into the darkness below.
‘A torch would help. Unless you want to break your neck.’
With a grunt, Carter went back to the storeroom and returned with a battery-powered storm lantern.
They stood at the entrance to the old cellar. Carter switched on the lantern. Silas had been right. Darkness was falling fast.
‘How come you never showed me this place before? I’ve lived here all my life and I never knew that there was anything beneath the storehouse.’
‘For your own good, lad,’ said Silas. ‘When you were a boy, smuggling was rife out here. Boats went out on the high tides to meet the Dutchmen. Came back loaded with gin and cigarettes, they did. This spot was safe from the coastguards.’ Silas gave a throaty laugh. ‘Then the boy became a policeman, so I decided best to let sleeping dogs lie.’